


when the bones are good

by evewithanapple



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Gen, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/pseuds/evewithanapple
Summary: Cosette and Valjean come to an agreement regarding titles.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Valjean
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22
Collections: Rule 63 Exchange 2020





	when the bones are good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [within_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/gifts).



In the Gorbeau house, Cosette called Valjean nothing but _monsieur_. She recalled, in her eight years, no father, no mother, and no grandparents; she knew not what a family was, nor what Valjean might be to her. He was only the gentleman who had taken her away from the Thenardier Inn. She addressed him with all the respect she had been taught to give her betters – that is to say, all people. Valjean gave her queer looks sometimes but did not correct her. Cosette had learned to take correction by way of blows. Valjean offered her none, and so she assumed she had adopted the correct form of address.

Then came the flight from the Gorbeau house, the days spent crisscrossing the countryside and then the streets of Paris. Cosette was not afraid until Valjean told her that Madame Thenardier was near; then she trembled and fell silent. Still, she trusted Valjean to keep her safe. So it was that when they arrived at Petit-Picpus, her little soul was at peace.

“Sister,” Valjean said to the nun who had come to the door when they knocked, “we require shelter, for the night is very cold and the child will freeze outside.”

“Bless me!” the sister – who was called Claudine – replied. “Sir, we may take the child, but you know you cannot enter the cloister. Mother Innocente would never permit a man to trespass on our house of women.”

Cosette, hearing this, was frightened; she thought she might be taken away from her benefactor, and did not want to go with this strange woman in her strange headdress. Cosette, you see, had never been in the presence of a nun before, and was quite unsettled by the sight.

“Ah, sister,” Valjean said, “I would not trespass.” And Valjean removed the cap from his head – for the first time since he had first arrived in Montfermeil.

The sister gasped. Cosette was, at first, confused at the reaction; Valjean looked much the same without the cap as he had with it, though silver-frosted curls now spilled around his ears. But then she squinted in the half-light of the convent’s candles and beheld the curve of Valjean’s jaw, the smooth skin and clean neck, so unlike Thenardier and the men of the inn. The truth fell upon her like a thunderbolt, yet she did not gasp. A child may accept great change in an instant; their mind, still only half-formed, accepts and molds itself around challenges to the world as it has known. That her benefactress was now Madame rather than Monsieur made no great difference to Cosette’s small world. Indeed, it was a boon: Valjean would now be permitted to remain with her in the convent. She held tight to Valjean’s hand as they went inside.

Later – once the nuns had provided them with water to wash with and food to eat and beds which were, if not soft, then at least passably comfortable – Cosette went again to Valjean and put her small arms around her neck. She rested her head on her shoulder and whispered, “Maman?”

Valjean grew stiff beneath Cosette’s touch, and she released her and backed away, frightened that she had put some foot wrong. Her benefactress had a queer look on her face. If Cosette had been a little older, she might have known it as grief.

“No, little one,” Valjean said. “No. Your maman watches over you in Heaven.”

Of course; she remembered now, what had been said at the inn. She tried again: “Grand-mère?”

But Valjean was shaking her head. “I am – “ She stopped. Her face grew yet more haggard with grief. Cosette could not identify the emotion, but she knew with a child’s intuition that Valjean wanted comforting, and she put her arms around her neck again.

Valjean made an attempt of her own “Marraine?”

Cosette had never had a godmother; she did not know what the word meant. The name of God had been unknown to her, as the Thenardiers had certainly made no attempt at providing her a religious education. But she trusted Valjean. If this woman wished to be Marraine to her, then Marraine she would be.

“My Marraine,” she agreed. On impulse, she kissed Valjean’s cheek, then went away to bed.

* * *

Valjean sat up for a long time after Cosette was asleep. One of the nuns came to check when the bells rang for matins, saw that Valjean was still awake, shrugged, and went away. Valjean let a single candle burn low, watching Cosette hug Catherine the doll close in her sleep. The way she would one day hold her own children, she thought; the way Fantine must have once held her.

The child had called her mother! Valjean had no children, and now never would; the closest she had come was being _tante_ to her sister’s children so many years ago, and they must surely have forgotten her by now. She had had no husband, no children, no family: no one but her fellow prisoners in the Bagne, and they had never regarded each other with warmth. She had resigned herself to ending her life alone. And Cosette called her mother!

It would not do, of course: not for poor Fantine’s sake, who had given all to save her child. Cosette must know about Fantine, she thought: she must know how she was loved. No, she could not be Cosette’s mother. Nor could she claim any other blood relation. Surely the child had family somewhere, or had had it at some point. They may never return to claim their lost little one, but Valjean had no right to usurp their place, regardless.

So she would be a godmother. God help the child! - Valjean was no abbé, nor bishop, nor even a reverend sister. All the religious education she had, she had gained from quietly sitting in the pews of the church at Montfermeil - and what the Bishop Myriel had given her, so long ago. She could not teach Cosette her catechism, nor educate her in the names of the saints, nor explain to her the Holy Trinity. All she could offer Cosette was what the Bishop had offered: a call to goodness, a sense of compassion, and faith in God.

The convent would be good for them, Valjean thought: the learned sisters could provide Cosette with the education that she could not. Javert would not find them here. The sheltering walls would keep them safe, and allow Cosette to grow in love and safety and charity. Valjean could guard her faith as her godmother, and the sisters could nuture it. Yes, the convent was a good place. 

Valjean cast a last look at Cosette, still sleeping peacefully. Impulsively, she caught up one of the little girl's hands in hers and kissed it gently. Then she blew the candle out nd went to bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Maman - mother/mama  
> Grand-mère - grandmother  
> Marraine - godmother  
> tante - aunt


End file.
